Lies
by needsmoreicing
Summary: "I just wanted to be perfect, to believe it's all be worth the fight. Lies, don't want to know, don't want to know." - Marina and the Diamonds


A/N: Hello everyone! As we all know I like to mess with all the pretty people, so I challanged myself to write a story to mess with my OTP! This story is based off of Marina and the Diamonds "Lies". The acoustic version is the one that I'd play while reading this fic and I hope you enjoy the story!

If I get enough reviews, I could be persuaded to do a sequel , like I did with _Seconds_.

GUYS! GUYS! I'VE BEEN NOMINATED FOR THE INDIECRAWARDS!

**This is the final round of voting! The link is on my profile!**

Thank you for nominating me and supporting me!

* * *

YOU'RE NEVER GONNA LOVE SO WHAT'S THE USE  
WHAT'S THE POINT IN PLAYING A GAME YOU'RE GONNA LOSE  
WHAT'S THE POINT IN SAYING YOU LOVE ME LIKE A FRIEND?  
WHAT'S THE POINT IN SAYING 'IT'S NEVER GONNA END'

* * *

Ella sighed, packing her boxes slowly, avoiding her closet like the plague. She could pack her school books, her socks, even her shoes. But every time she caught a glimpse of the deep navy dress in her closet, her will to leave weakened. She can feel the way her body trembled as he'd peel the dress off of her, like she was a present that was only for him. Like she was a rare item that was treasured and, for a moment, she could fool herself into thinking that he loved her. Who didn't want to be revered?

It was the same with her jewelry.

That pair of sapphire studs that his tongue had cleverly removed, the faux pearl necklace that she'd restrung countless times when he'd been a little hands on, the beautiful diamond ring that he'd given her for Christmas one year.

These little physical reminders of how he was in her life, the way he'd showered her with gifts because of his guilt at keeping her hidden. No one knew, no one suspected and it killed her inside. Oh, how she'd love to laugh about the way he'd burned breakfast once because she'd worn his button up shirt around the house. How she could surprise the world with how an attentive of a lover Nate could be behind closed doors.

But she was tired of closed doors with the people she considered her family. She'd had enough with trying to smother her feelings of jealousy when Caitlyn would run off to make-out with Jason in a closet. Ella was tired of the endless blind dates that Mitchie would set her up on, unable to deny them because she wasn't _technically _in a relationship. She deplored the guilty feeling that settled in her stomach when Nate would gaze over jealously, like she'd done something wrong. But she never went further then a kiss on the cheek, anything more felt like she was cheating on a man who didn't even acknowledge that they were together outside of one of their homes.

When the press would joke that all Nate needed to do was to start dating her to be a complete set, Nate would smile and gave the firm position that they were just friends.

Friends didn't make your heart tumble out of your chest. They didn't plan days to be locked away inside of their homes, with no signs of leaving until the general public asked for their presence in the public eye. She wasn't even sure that Issac, Nate's body guard, was aware what was going on even though he'd dropped her back off at her home on more then one occasion.

It was easy to pack her work clothes and skirts, a slight clench in her stomach as she thinks about the way he would gaze at her when she wore a particular pair of cut off shorts or a pair of pants that he'd torn off her more than once.

Little by little, she packed up her small things and store them in the trunk of her car.

Ella had a secret of her own, she was tired of being a secret.

* * *

YOU'RE TOO PROUD TO SAY THAT YOU MADE A MISTAKE  
YOU'RE A COWARD 'TIL THE END  
I DON'T WANT TO ADMIT THAT WE'RE NOT GONNA FIT  
THAT I'M NOT THE TYPE THAT YOU LIKE  
SO WHY DON'T WE JUST PRETEND?

* * *

She had worn the navy dress again. With its lovely shoulder lines, crocheted sides, and a cut out right above the small of her back. It held her in just the right way, showing off the curve of her body, making it known to the world that she was a beautiful woman. It made her feel powerful, the way that his jaw would slacken when he caught sight of her. The way her breath would hitch as his fingers brushed on the sides, between the crocheted design.

She had to see it, the look in his eyes when they woke up the next morning. Ella knew it wouldn't change. It was the same look of regret that maybe she could replace with lust again if she put a little effort into it. But he'd duck his head, his ears turning red, and Ella would feel shame pool into her stomach. Angry tears would prick into her eyes as she'd dress for the day ahead of her.

_Coward, _her mind would chant. _Coward._

She'd wipe the counters down with angry vengeance, making sure that there wasn't a trace of her left behind when she went. She didn't want to _impose on his space_. Ella tried to ignore the sinking hole in stomach as she'd kiss his cheek as she headed out the door, lingering just a little longer than she knew she should have. Throwing her car in to gear, she backed out of his driveway and sped off to work, trying to ignore the happy jingle of her trinkets safely stowed in the boxes in her trunk. She tired to ignore the feelings of rejection that settled on her heart. It was the same every time, not matter how much she silent begged for something to change but it never would. _He_ never would.

But she knew his type. Traditionally pretty, Ivy league college, overly organized and borderline OCD. They ate wilted salads with iceberg lettuce, one tomato, no carrots, no croutons, no protein, no salt, and no pepper. His parents didn't understand and his brother's tried, but they all confided in her that they never approved of anyone he ever dated.

The flip side of that was everyone Nate ever dated hated Ella. They didn't understand her cluttered desk and swatches of fabric or the small amount of purple that was in her hair currently. They didn't approve of fanciful outfits and the whimsical designs that she made. But they were all faceless clones of each other.

Neither Ella or Nate were quite aware of what lead to their affair. One moment she was helping put away dishes from movie night and the next his lips were slowly brushing against hers. Her heart had raced under his fingers and he paid more attention to what she wanted than any man she'd ever been with. She never felt more special than when she was in Nate's arms. The first time, he assured her that it would never happen again and that he was sorry for using her in a moment of need and lust. But it happened again and again, to where they'd start making plans to tuck away from the world. At first, she thought that he wanted to protect her from the scrutiny of the press and the invading eyes of his fans. But he'd never touch her in front of their friends, he hadn't told his brothers, and had asked her not to tell Peggy or any of the other girls.

But he wanted to hide and that was when she felt used and dirty.

* * *

LIES  
DON'T WANNA KNOW, DON'T WANNA KNOW  
I CANT LET YOU, CANT LET YOU GO  
I JUST WANT IT TO PERFECT  
TO BELIEVE IT'S ALL BEEN WORTH THE FIGHT  
LIES  
DON'T WANNA KNOW, DON'T WANNA KNOW

* * *

Jealousy rolled in her stomach as she finished the outfits for the newest photo shoot. Ella tried to be indifferent to the blonde leggy woman hanging off of Nate's shoulder, but the casual way he talked to her and _held_ her made it hard. Instead, she threw herself in her work. It wouldn't matter much anyway, the woman would be gone with in the hour and she'd still be there, just like she always was.

Picture after picture, wardrobe after wardrobe, Ella played her role as the perfect stylist and ever helpful and charming best friend. Laugh at this, grin at that, cue eye roll. It was the memorized script that she'd defaulted to too help mask her real feelings.

She couldn't feel the pain as she accidentally stabbed herself in the finger with a needle, the tears pricking her eyes over-road everything else. Ella heard the door close behind her and she knew it was Nate coming to return his wardrobe and change into the next outfit. She pricked herself again and this time a small bead of blood rose to the surface. Muttering a quite stream of curses, she smiled weakly over her shoulder and went to the first aid kit.

Surprise jolted in her stomach as his hand covered hers, holding her hand up for inspection. They had the same tender grace when wiping the small ruby bead away as when they memorized and mapped her body. The same comforting warmth as they held firm when she hissed at the sting of the alcohol pad.

His lips touched her finger ever so slightly and Ella felt her will weaken inside of her as he opened a bright pink Barbie band-aid and applied it over her wound.

His eyes met hers and for a moment Ella could see a future for them. Nate nuzzled the palm of her hand, kissing her wrist, her palm, and her hurt finger again before giving a half of a smile and changing wardrobes.

But behind closed doors, Ella felt even emptier than she had that morning.

* * *

YOU ONLY EVER TOUCH ME IN THE DARK  
ONLY IF WE'RE DRINKING CAN YOU SEE MY SPARK  
AND ONLY IN THE EVENING COULD YOU GIVE YOURSELF TO ME  
'CAUSE THE NIGHT IS YOUR WOMEN AND SHE'LL SET YOU FREE

* * *

He was drunk.

That was the only explanation for Nate's behavior and the rest of the group just watched idly by. Ella almost broke down into tears as Nate wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close. Nearly told her secret to her friends as she reapplied her lip-gloss in the bathroom as they asked about her sullen mood. But they were near misses and Ella was silently grateful to all the time she spent hardening her heart.

When the group decided to head their separate ways, it was Ella who always was paired up to take Nate home. Just like he was always the one to take her home when she'd had to much. Gripping the wheel of his car, Ella cursed herself quietly as Nate gently brushed a finger down her arm. He would only ever admit that he wanted her to himself when he was drunk, and she'd always been taught that drunken words were sober thoughts.

What was it about drinking that made everything so thoughtless, she wondered. Ella knew that if Nate were sober he'd have the answer, hell even in his drunken stupor he might still know. The street lamps flickered on and Nate's rational thoughts along with them. He apologized for embarrassing her in front of their friends and asked her _what was bothering her. _He suggested work, Tess, he even had the gall to ask if it was another man.

She almost slammed on her breaks in fury. He went with that slight jerk though, thinking he had his answer. Instead, he asked about this new man in her life. Asking if he knew how she liked to beheld and kissed, if he knew that she would rather watch an old slasher film than a newer romantic comedy, or if this new man knew that her heart belonged to someone else.

The tears finally poured over as she reached the entrance gate to Nate's property, slowly moving her way into the garage. She turned in the driver's seat and looked him in the eyes, moving a curl off of his forehead, brushing nonexistent lint off of his shoulders, tears still flowing in a steady stream and her lips trembled. Kissing his cheek gently, she turned the car off and walked to the front of the property and called a cab. She could do heartache all on her own and she felt Nate's clutch on her heart tug at every step she walked away and mile that was driven.

Oh yes, Ella Pador was the queen of heartache.

* * *

YOU'RE TOO PROUD TO SAY THAT YOU MADE A MISTAKE  
YOU'RE A COWARD 'TIL THE END  
I DON'T WANT TO ADMIT THAT WE'RE NOT GONNA FIT  
THAT I'M NOT THE TYPE THAT YOU LIKE  
SO WHY DON'T WE JUST PRETEND?

* * *

It hurt more than she thought it would, more than she could have ever imagined, and Ella was almost tempted to curl up in her comforter and will her pain way. To be surrounded by a sea of clothes was usually Ella's dream, but it was her living nightmare at this moment.

Shirts from her years at Camp Rock that she had signed the day before camp ended, so she could wear it on the way home. How had she never notice that Nate's signature was always right above her heart? She decided to put those in her 'maybe' pile. Maybe she would keep them, maybe she would throw them out, Ella liked having both options avalible to her. But staring at the pile, she knew that she'd never be able to keep those shirts with her. She could keep them in storage and maybe, when she'd finally healed, Ella would be able to remember her times at camp fondly again.

_I could throw them away,_ she mused to herself,_ I could throw them away and ever look back. _

But she would miss them and the memories that they held for her. Even looking at them, she could still hear the faint music from her past, feel the sun warming her skin, the delight Ella felt when she'd hit the water for that first swim or when she was surrounded by her friends at the camp fire. Staring at them, she could feel a lump growing in her throat.

Yes, it was best that she kept them.

In the back of her mind, Ella knew that she could rationalize every peice of clothing she owned. But when her fingers touched the crochedted sides of her navy blue dress, she threw it directly into her trash pile. Along with the earrings and ring. They would sell nicely, she reasoned, and you couldn't just throw away priceless gems. There were certian ways you had to get rid of those demons, _legally._

She wouldn't ever beable to purge Nate from her system, but it was a start. She had to learn to live again, to breath again, and get her life back to where she wanted it. It was the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life, telling someone who'd always been so close to her to leave her alone. It would be hard, there was no doubt about it. Ella was friends with his family, he was friends her brother, and they all knew the same basic circle of people and Ella would never be able to escape that.

But she had to try. It wasn't healthy to live in a constant state of whirlwind emotions. She felt out of control and losing a grip on her reality, doubt everything she knew. It was like Ella couldn't even trust herself anymore, and she was tired of living that way. So, she continued to pack up her clothes and packing her 'keep' pile away. A fresh start was all she needed to get herself back together. To her it was not so much running away, but preserving what was left of her heart. It might be cowardly to some, but Ella wasn't sure how many options she had left.

Maybe one day, she'd be able to look her friends in the eye and tell them what happened without out her heart breaking. Maybe that back-bone she ordered would finally come in, so many 'maybe's that weighed heavily on her mind. _Maybe one day... _But Ella stopped her own thoughts short, wishful thinking would get her no where. What was the point in pretending when she knew the reality anyway?

* * *

LIES

DON'T WANNA KNOW, DON'T WANNA KNOW  
I CANT LET YOU, CANT LET YOU GO  
I JUST WANT IT TO PERFECT  
TO BELIEVE IT'S ALL BEEN WORTH THE FIGHT  
LIES  
DON'T WANNA KNOW, DON'T WANNA KNOW

* * *

From the office of Ella Pador

Designer and Stylist

Vibe Studios

I, Eleanor Pador, formally resign as Head Stylist and Designer for such acts as Brown Cesario (Vibe Studios; Owner), Caitlyn Gellar (Producer) Jason Gray (Connect Three), Lola Scott (Solo Artist), Margaret Dupree (Solo Artist), Michelle Torres (Solo Artist), Nathaniel Gray (Connect Three), and Shane Gray (Connect Three).  
A conflict of personal interests has occurred and I feel that, as a Designer and Stylist, it would be better for my career to take sometime for myself. Know that this resignation does not come without a heavy heart and I hope that my colleges and friends still hold me in high regards.  
I have changed locations and have decided to take on a few peritonitis that will help me as a designer and mentoring new talent.  
I have selected a new Temp Stylist to fill in until a new Head Stylist is chosen. I will still be taking design orders, but will pursuing a broader spectrum of fashion now.  
My contact information has been updated and to retrieve the latest e-mails and phone numbers please contact my former assistant, Jenna.

Sincerely,

Ella Pador

* * *

L-I-E-S

DON'T WANNA KNOW, DON'T WANNA KNOW  
I CANT LET YOU, CANT LET YOU GO  
I JUST WANT IT TO PERFECT  
TO BELIEVE IT'S ALL BEEN WORTH THE FIGHT  
LIES  
DON'T WANNA KNOW, DON'T WANNA KNOW

* * *

They didn't understand. What was going on?

Peggy was furiously texting way and calling her friend, but to no avail.

Mitchie and Lola went through a list of contacts but no one had seen or heard from Ella in the past few days. Even Jenna only had a forwarding PO Box that was listed as Buena Vista, Co. But what was there for Ella in Colorado? What opportunities could she possibly have there that she couldn't have in California? Did fashion ever wander outside of New York City and California?

Shane swore quietly as he ended his conversation with the Post Master General in Buena Vista. Ella's mailbox had an unlisted forwarding address.

Where ever Ella was, she'd made certain that finding her was going to be difficult. Nate swallowed the guilty lump in his throat as Caitlyn suggested that maybe Ella didn't want to be found. The whole room became silent and then the flood gates opened.

Accusations were thrown around the room.

Why hadn't they stopped her?

Where were the signs?

What made her leave?

Nate didn't have to try very hard to look concerned for the missing woman, but he feared that he knew the answers to all their questions.

Only Brown held Nate at an even and steady gaze, his eyes accusing and disappointed in his nephew.

Buena Vista danced around in his head, creating a melody, weaving a song, haunting him in that special way that only Ella could provide.

_What had he done?_


End file.
